


Hide & Seek

by piratesandorphans



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratesandorphans/pseuds/piratesandorphans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the son of the city mayor is abducted, Emma Swan is called in to investigate the kidnapping. [AU, dark]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide & Seek

**Author's Note:**

> A fair warning: I am an unbearably slow writer. This will likely become part of a mini-series of interconnected stories if I manage to get it right. Happy hunting~

  **Prologue** : Cold Lips

 

_“Believe those who are seeking the truth; doubt those who find it.”_

**-Andre Gide**

 

A lone figure moved along the corridor, hands tracing the cold walls as his ears strained to pick up sounds of movement in the darkness. The low tapping of his shoes on concrete and the ring of silence answered.

 

The passageway was old and dank, filled with a musty smell that belonged to aged limestone and stale air. And though it was faint, another scent permeated through the thin atmosphere – the hint of a smoked cigarette. Perhaps the gloom and cold shadows conveyed an air of abandonment and years of disuse, but he knew better. As he turned left into another corridor, light bulbs flickered above and filled the halls with light.

 

Motion sensors.

 

It was strange that such technology would be installed in a seemingly dilapidated building. In the pit of his stomach certainty drew weight. He couldn’t be that far away now. With each step taken past abandoned rooms and storage closets, tenacity swelled within him, and his grip on the glock 32 tightened.

 

Down the fourth hall ahead on the right, he picked up the tune of a concerto. Turning around the corner, he slowed his approach towards the one open door in the corridor. As he closed in the music grew louder, and a shadow danced across the wall within as its body shifted presumably across the room. There. His target. His suspect. The answer to this bloody mess. Carefully, he approached the room until he stood beside the door, shoulders taut with anticipation. His prey was murmuring something incoherent, but it didn’t matter as long as he had the upper hand.

 

Now. Now. There was no time to waste. He swiftly entered the room, gun aimed at the figure within. At first his prey was stunned with silence. Then he spoke, “So the rat has caught on at last. Congratulations.” Calm. Mocking. Arrogant. Irksome.

 

“Hands up and step away from the table.”

 

The man chuckled darkly and complied, moving to reveal a pallid body behind his back. The detective stifled the urge to recoil in disgust.

 

“Shocked are we?” his target asked pleasantly.

 

“And it ends for you here.”

 

“Ah, how wrong you are.” But the man before him was not speaking. He stiffened when the cold lip of a gun was suddenly pressed against the back of his head.

 

“Drop the gun.” She commanded. His hand loosened and the glock clattered to the ground. He glared at his now free target who made to leave, lips stretching into a cruel grin. “Be a doll and keep it clean, won’t you?”

 

“Of course darling.”

 

He gritted his teeth, hands fisting tightly as if to wring the life out of thin air. “You,” he seethed accusingly into the blinding white room.

 

“ _Me_.” Her tone had a slight taunt to it and the sting of betrayal churned at the pit of his gut. Anticipation welled up, roiling with tension and fear, the concerto rising into a crescendo as if to signify his doom. There was no way to escape.

 

“Sorry Jones.”

 

A gunshot exploded in his ear.


End file.
